Being Saved

Feast of Saints Phillip and James

"I am reminding you, brothers and sisters,
of the Gospel I preached to you,
which you indeed received and in which you also stand.
Through it you are also being saved,
if you hold fast to the word I preached to you,
unless you believed in vain."
--1 Corinthians 15:1-2

As a convert to Catholic Christianity, I used to think a lot about the differences between the Protestant Evangelical understanding of salvation and that of the Roman church.  I don't give it as much thought anymore, since so much of my religious conversation takes place within Catholic circles these days.  But perhaps because I feel that God has been working on me with great intensity lately, and perhaps because a friend mentioned a question about purgatory recently, something about this reading struck me deeply today.

St. Paul says that, through the Gospel, we are "being saved."  These two words reveal so much.

I think Catholics are far too prone to just shrug off the evangelical emphasis on the salvation experience of accepting Jesus as one's lord and savior.  One of the great gifts of evangelical Christianity is its relentless refrain that a true disciple is engaged in a total love affair with God through Christ.  Every individual must surrender himself utterly to Christ's love and mercy, and until he does, the journey of faith hasn't really begun, no matter how much religiosity he displays.

Catholics, who are perpetually prone to falling into rote repetition of ritual and the acceptance of Christianity as more of a social identity than a way of life, need to hear that evangelical insistence on a personal relationship with Jesus.  They need to hear it and answer it by having one, starting right this minute.

Such an emphasis on personal conversion is not foreign to Catholicism, of course.  In fact, it is the heart of the Gospel as expressed in the Catechism, taught by the Church fathers, and lived out by saints throughout the ages.  But the Church also holds firmly to the faith as lived through the sacraments, and so inward faith and outward ritual expression of that faith always reflects a dynamic, creative tension in the life of Catholic Christians.  We are saved through Christ's grace, encountered in our hearts but also poured out in the sacramental life of the church as we make our pilgrim journey through life.

And this understanding of salvation as a journey is perhaps Catholicism's gift to the rest of Christianity.

Here's the thing: I have accepted Jesus as my lord and savior.  I did this first as a child, but I've done it countless times since then.  Not because, as some Protestant theologies would have it, I backslid and fell from grace, but because my desire to surrender to Christ's mercy and forgiveness does not mean I really have fully relinquished my own control into God's hands.

I want to live for Him and conform myself completely to His will.  But wanting it doesn't just make it happen.  I need to work at being a disciple, daily commiting myself to prayer and good works, not to earn my salvation, but to more fully accept the salvation that Christ has already effected for all of humanity.  Through God's grace, I gradually soften my heart so that Jesus' saving power can really work in me, sanctifying me into real surrender to the Father.

It's not like I once was not saved, then I was a little saved, and tomorrow I will be a lot more saved.  That's too simplistic an understanding of the ever-deepening relationship of love I share with Him.  He already effected my salvation through his blood and his mercy.  Now I am slowly learning how to love Him in return.  I am being saved.

This, I think, helps explain the mysterious teaching on purgatory, a state of being which exists within us, not something that God imposes upon us.  God is ready to bring us home to eternal peace with him right now.  We, sadly, aren't ready to go, even though we might really want to.  The process of letting go and really embracing God's love is slow and sometimes painful.  He's patiently waiting for us to finally get over ourselves and accept what he pours out so freely and generously, in reckless, unconditional love.

Lover of my soul, I accept you as the master of my life.  I am powerless to do anything without you.  Break me open so that I might see whatever remains uncoverted within me.  I will give it all to you.  Amen.